You Don't Mess With This Brutha
by Azkas19
Summary: Sebastian can be nasty if he wants to...especially when someone does the Spicy Shimmy on him. Choir Boy x Female Hawke.


A quickie sumthin' sumthin' to help me break away from writing 'Dummies Guide To Botching Up A Friendmance'. It's on the way, going through a major rewrite...but it will come. Just...kinda stuck in the birthing canal at the moment. Anyway, I've broken my own rule and did a hangover fic. But meh, rules are made to be broken. So enjoy this, and you guys have an awesome day, yeah.

Dragon Age series and all of its characters belong to Bioware.

* * *

><p>Marian woke up and felt herself beneath the sheets. She was fully clothed, and that was a disappointment. She had hoped that she'd get lucky the night before, but no…apparently luck wasn't in her horoscope at the moment. She'd walked with the Demon of Debauchery and as always he'd bring his usual friends along: Hangover, Shotgun Wedding, Unplanned Pregnancy and Bankruptcy. But judging from her intact money pouch and a glaring zero in the man department, she could safely deduct the last three accounts.<p>

Now she can just lie back and slowly die from the first one.

Why, oh why can't she just take good advice for once? Varric had warned her about taking strange foreign drinks with a dead worm in the bottle. She did it anyway, because she'd grown tired of everyone making fun of her drinking habits. It was no secret that she had the alcohol tolerance of a cauliflower, and she had to make do with goat's milk everytime she drank at the Hanged Man.

"Somebody kill me!" she moaned.

As if on cue, someone rapped smartly at her door and entered.

"Good morning, Marian," the Maker's voice boomed down from the heavens, causing her to wince in pain.

"Sebastian," she said feebly, "A wee bit of control in the volume, please? Thank you."

"It's almost eleven in the morning," he said reproachfully. "You should be up and about by now."

"The only thing that feels like being up and about is my stomach, so do refrain from using nausea-inducing words."

Something was placed on her bedside table with a loud _plink_ which sent seesaws of agony throughout her brain.

"Something for your head," he said.

"Ooh, Sebastian…you're a _saint!" _she said, pushing herself up. "You're my knight in shining armour, my own chocolate pudding. I think I'll love you forever and ever-_auughhhh! YOU MOTHERFU-"_

"Hm, right," he commented dryly. He had thrown open her curtains and was neatly pinning them back as he waited for her streams of curses to subside. It was pathetic, really…like watching a creature of darkness floundering about in sunlight. Now all he had to do was show a holy symbol and she'll dissolve into ashes. Maybe he should call Bodahn up with a broom and dustpan just in case.

"Fenris is certainly not a good influence on you," he said. "I may not be proficient in Arcanum, but as far as swear words go, my mother is nothing like that and the state of my manhood should be none of your concern."

"You've murdered me!" sobbed the crumpled pile of silken duvet.

"I did nothing of that sort. Now drink that in one go and for Maker's sake try not to throw up. I've spent the better part of the morning preparing it, and Varric swears it works fast."

"Bleugh."

Sebastian gave her a brittle smile. "That's a good girl. Now, can you stand up?"

"Is that part of the cure?"

"You can say that. Come on," he said, grabbing one of her wrists and pulling her out of the bed.

"Hey!"

"I see you've slept in your boots as well," he commented. "Even better. Let's go."

"Where are we going? Don't I at least get to wash up first?" she protested as he dragged her out her room and down the stairs. "I smell like…like…I don't know what I smell like!"

Sebastian wrinkled his nose. "I do, but it's not a word I'd use in civilized company. Never mind, you'll have plenty of time to clean up before the ceremony."

"What ceremony?"

He stopped and spun around so suddenly that she almost became a Marian-shaped spatter on his armour. "Why don't I just show you?"

* * *

><p>"Behold the result of your drunken passion."<p>

Marian's jaw dropped. A sizeable patch of Chantry garden had been reduced to soot. A team of initiates was busy clearing up the area, but whatever hope of discovering any leafy survivors were very slim.

"What happened here?" she asked.

"_You _did, Marian. I highly doubt you remember, so shall I do a play-by-play walkthrough for you?"

"Would you strangle me if I said no?"

Fixing her with a steely glare, he said: "Last night, after your rather embarrassing drinking debut at the Hanged Man, you came here…singing loudly and doing the Spicy Shimmy outside my window-"

"Well that wasn't so bad-"

"-effectively waking up half of the men's dorm. I tried to pacify you, but you chose that moment to bare your mammaries at me, and-"

"My what?"

"Your mammaries. You know…your…er, bosom," he said, cheeks colouring slightly even as he was trying to maintain a serious facade.

Marian gasped. It sounded like a dying fish. "I did not!" she said in horrified tones. "You did not just say I flashed you my-"

"Twenty-five witnesses can attest to my statement, Marian. I'm not finished yet. After that you proceeded to – refrain any form of screaming, please – confess your undying love towards me. You proposed marriage, and even went as far as to list out all the…fornicating positions you'd like to do with me – a few of which, I'd like to add, I've never even heard of."

Marian covered her face with both hands and sank down into squatting position. "This is not happening," she sobbed, rocking back and forth. "This is just a stupid feverish dream and I'll wake up naked next to a man I barely know who calls himself Larry."

"Well you just have to be content with Sebastian for now. Where was I? Oh, yes. To prove your passion towards me, you attempted to burn my name onto the grass, but you somehow ended up setting the whole garden ablaze. How can you be so reckless, Marian? You've even destroyed Sister Petrice's melon patch, and you _know_ how proud she is of them!"

"Yes, I bet you're looking forward to plowing her melons, aren't you?" Marian muttered sourly.

"What was that? I did not quite hear you."

"Nothing," she said, getting up. "Are we done here? Because I can't wait to go home and hang myself right now. I'll pay for the damages, I promise. Even down to Petrice's smallest rind. Just send Bodahn the bill, and he'll settle it for-"

"Marian, Elthina's seriously considering pressing charges against you. Property destruction, trespass, disturbance of peace, lewd behaviour on sacred grounds, arson, indecent exposure…these are things even Aveline couldn't help you out of. You have to take responsibility over your actions."

"I just did! You're obviously not listening. I _told_ you I'd pay for everything! Tch."

"And then, there's the matter of our marriage."

"Marriage?"

"My, my…what a lovely echo you make. Yes, Marian. Marriage. I've accepted your proposal and we shall be irrevocably bound in holy matrimony this afternoon." At that point, he leaned forward with a menacing glint in his eyes. Marian leaned back. "How do you feel about a chaste union?"

"Chaste?" she squawked. But realizing that she was repeating him again, she tried a different tack. "What do you mean by that?"

"It means that you shall be initiated into the Order of the Chantry as one of our sisters. Isn't that exciting? I've even taken the liberty of suggesting to Elthina your first course of duty here. How does Sunday school teacher for underprivileged children sound? I hope you've started memorizing the Chant of Light like I've told you to…for that's what you'll be teaching your students."

A flash of defiance flared within Marian and she reared herself up. "Wait just one nug-picking minute," she said, angrily poking him in the chest. Her fingernail made faint _tink tink _noises as it bumped against his armour each time she made a point. "You can't just _run_ my life as you see fit! I don't care what you see yourself as around here, but _you're _not bossing me around, Sebastian Vael. Now, either you get used to that, or I'll twist it around your head so bad that you'll have no choice but to accept. So there!" She gave him a final shove, but he was as sturdy as a tree trunk, and that only made her teeter backwards.

"Such stubbornness," he said, shaking his head sadly as she struggled to right herself. "And here I am thinking that you're a reasonable woman despite that mortifying display last night. Elthina is prepared to drop all charges if you agree to go through this marriage too."

"She is?"

"I've even bought a ring. Nothing fancy, mind you. But symbolic enough for this occasion."

"You have?"

"But now you've gone back on your own word. What a shame. I understand. It must be because there's no such thing as divorce in an Andrastian marriage. You've gotten cold feet because of that, haven't you?"

"There isn't?"

"Well, that's just too bad, for I am a man of my word. If I say I'll marry you, then I'll marry you. For better or for worse, you shall be my legally bound wife. So take a long, hard look at your new home, Marian," he said, pulling her close and waving at the vast expanse of holy and slightly charred Chantry architecture. "Oh, don't make that face. Us priests can have our fun too, you know. We may not play Wicked Grace, but we do have our regular weekend charade game with the Blight war veterans. You'd like that, wouldn't you? You can swap stories with them, and-"

"Look, Sebastian. I think this joke has gone far enough. I realize you're trying to teach me a lesson here, so consider it well taught. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to do what I did last night…and I swear I'll never touch a single drop of alcohol for the rest of my life. That's what you want to hear, isn't it?"

"Marian, I have never been as serious as I am right now. I _do_ wish to marry you. What kind of a man mad enough to refuse an insidious, mentally disturbed and a potential public threat number one such as yourself as a wife?"

"Alright, now you're really scaring me."

She actually squealed when he suddenly dipped down and carried her in his arms bridal style. "Come, love. Tradition states that I should do this after the solemnization, but since you thrive in unpredictability, I shall bear you over the threshold right this moment. I hope you're ready to say 'I do', Marian."

Her scream could be heard throughout the entire cityscape of Kirkwall: _"MAKER, NOOOOOOOOOOOOO….!"_

As the echoes died down, Fenris opened a crusted eye.

"Hmph, so he's told her about the Spicy Shimmy," he muttered sleepily to himself as he turned over in his bed.

THE END


End file.
